


Coming Together

by LakeWilliams



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Multi, Single Dad AU, i hope you enjoy the fic, sorry if this is done completely wrong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2019-10-15 08:16:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17525108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LakeWilliams/pseuds/LakeWilliams
Summary: Francis Bonnefoy is the new resident in the town of New Cresthill, freshly moved into a small house with his toddler, Matthew, after he divorced his ex-wife. He meets a man named Arthur, with his child Amelia, who is in a similar situation, although he is certainly better off than the Frenchman. He slowly learns to depend on this man, but how far will that go?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thank you all for stopping by to read this! This is my first ao3 fic, however it isn't the first fic I've written. You can find my art blog on tumblr, just search for lake-scribbles! Thank you for stopping, and I hope you enjoy!

    All was well in the sleepy town of New Cresthill, the people milled about and got to know one another fairly well, and everyone got along. That was why Francis Bonnefoy, freshly out of a divorce with his two-year-old son, had decided to purchase a home there. It wasn't much, of course, what with his wife getting most of the money from the divorce, but he had a roof over his head and enough money to keep him and his son clothed and fed. He hadn't been in the house long, having already gotten a job as a dishwasher at a cafe prior, before one of the neighbors dropped by, a proper man named Arthur Kirkland, with his daughter, Amelia. Upon their introduction, Francis learned that Arthur was in a situation similar to his own, however, he had managed to keep his wealth, and thus lived in the richer side of town. He would have been lying if he said he wasn't envious of Arthur, he didn't have the question of whether or not he'd be able to make ends meet for his child, but the gentle smile and glowing green eyes of said man seemed to put him at ease, as if he were personally telling the Frenchman that everything would be alright.

    Francis let out a soft sigh as he awoke to the soft sounds of Matthew's tears being shed, rolling over in his bed to find his son awake and upright, wiping at his eyes. The poor boy had been having nightmares often, and nothing Francis tried seemed to prevent them. He carefully got up from his own bed, moving slowly so he didn't startle the timid boy, and moved to sit upon the tiny mattress that Matthew claimed as his own. "What is the matter, _mon chouchou_?" Francis cooed softly at the crying child, placing his hand on Matthew's back. The boy didn't say a word, as expected, instead staring up at his father with his wide, watery eyes. Francis pulled him into his chest, holding him close and letting him cry, hoping that eventually, Matthew would open up and speak again. That was the one thing he held against his ex-wife, taking away his son's confidence to say anything out of the fear of losing those close to him again. Francis rocked back and forth with his son in his arms, starting to sing a soft, French lullaby, knowing that was one of the most effective ways to soothe the child. He felt him slowly relax in his hold, his breathing evening out as he drifted off into the land of dreams again. "... _Je suis desole_ , _mon chouchou_ ," he murmured gently, tucking Matthew back into bed and pressing a kiss to his forehead, as he did every time. "Papa will make sure something like that never happens again."

    Knowing that he would be unable to fall asleep again, Francis moved from their shared room out into the kitchen, running his hand through his silky, blonde hair as he stared around him. This came to be a ritual for him, making dishes out in his kitchen after Matthew had a nightmare. It was soothing for him. It was something familiar, working in a kitchen, with the ability to create magnificent things at his fingertips. He carefully pulled a few pans and dishes from the cupboards, tilting his head as he studied them. A thoughtful smile came to his lips, and he turned to the fridge, digging through for ingredients. His supervisor at work had given him a recipe for a strawberry cake when he had mentioned his son's love for the fruit. Why not make a special treat for him to eat in the morning? He set to work, humming softly as he did so, calmly mixing the batter. As he put everything together, he allowed his mind to wander. Arthur and Amelia, those two were an interesting pair. Amelia was very independent for her age, he remembered with a fond smile. She was rather bold and didn't think twice before introducing herself to someone, even if she lacked the words to do it properly. She forced her own way through it, and it was rather effective, for her introductions were impossible for him to forget. Amelia had stomped up to him the minute he opened the front door for Arthur on that first day, almost falling over in the process, her cheeks puffed out in a pout before she grinned and loudly announced her name before babbling on and on in a way that Francis could not understand.

    Arthur clearly found the display endearing, if the warm smile on his face had been anything to go by. He had been so fond of Matthew when they first met, showering the shy boy with love and attention, which he eagerly soaked up. Francis couldn't help but chuckle at that, watching as Arthur sat on their small couch and listened to Matthew quietly mumble to him before eventually clamming up again and staying silent for the rest of their visit. He had gotten along well with Amelia, however, and Francis was grateful to see that. Hopefully, they'd become good friends when school started. That would be fantastic. Francis hummed as he stopped mixing the ingredients together, pouring the mixture into the cake pan and sliding it into the preheated oven. He twisted the dial, setting a cook time and moving to sit on the couch and wait. His mind drifted back to Arthur, and his soothing voice. Arthur truly did seem like an angel, sent to him directly from Heaven, if there was such a thing. He was dependable and seemed to be an amazing person. Francis would love to get to know him more.

    He jumped when he heard the timer on the oven going off, rushing over to quiet it before it could wake little Matthew from the sleep he fought so hard to get each night. He smiled softly at the cake as he pulled it out of the oven, setting it onto the counter to cool as he cut strawberries to decorate it with. It would be a nice taste of home, of normalcy. Hopefully, it could put his son at ease, if not for a little while. His phone buzzed on the counter, and he turned to look at the screen as it lit up. He breathed a heavy sigh. Tonight would be a busy night at work, it seemed, meaning that Francis would be working late. He knew that Matthew hated to be at that daycare for too long, it made him nervous, as the people in charge had told him. He pursed his lips as he thought, looking down at the strawberries he had been cutting. Who could he ask to watch Matthew tonight, at such short notice? A familiar face swam into his mind, and he smiled as he reached out and picked up his phone, dialing a recently acquired phone number.

    He heard a soft click as the phone on the other end of the line was picked up, followed by sleepy groaning. "Francis? What the bloody hell are you doing calling me at this hour...?" he mumbled, letting out another groan as he sat up. "Are you even aware of what time it is?"

   " _Oui_ ," Francis said quietly, glancing back at the bedroom with a worried look. He didn't want to wake the sleeping child. "I am sorry for waking you, but I need your help, _s' il te plait_." He could hear more shuffling as Arthur got up, catching the quiet click as Arthur stepped outside onto the patio in his back yard.

   "Alright, fine," Arthur sighed. "What is it that you need? Do you need a loan, or something?" he asked, stifling a yawn. "You name it, and I can help with it."

   Francis couldn't help but grin at hearing the quick affirmative response. "It's Matthew," he said softly. "I need someone to watch him, he dislikes going to the daycare here in town. I was wondering if you would be willing to take him for the evening, since he knows you. I have to work a late shift tonight." The other end of the line went silent, as if Arthur were weighing the pros and cons.

"Alright, I'll do it," he said after a moment. "You know I'd do anything for the little tot." Francis breathed a sigh of relief, happy that his son would be with someone he trusted and felt safe near. He watched the sun come up through the window as he and Arthur engaged in mindless chatter, Arthur being far too awake now to even hope of going back to sleep. It was moments like this that made the Frenchman's heart soar, moments like these where he could just forget that he was divorced and alone with his son. It was moments like these where he could pretend that his life had been put back together by the Brit on the other end of the line, and held fast with his help. He smiled, listening to Arthur drone on and on about how Amelia was practically running now. Yes, this felt right. He sincerely hoped it could stay that way.


	2. Chapter 2

    The house was in a state of disarray, which was quite ironic, given the fact that Arthur wanted it clean for Francis and Matthew’s arrival. He wasn’t quite sure why he wanted to impress Francis, it wasn’t like he was going to judge him for having a slightly messy home. And yet, Francis’ opinion meant the world to him, he wanted everything to be perfect to impress him and make him smile. One bit of reasoning he had decided upon was that he wanted the house to look nice and safe for little Matthew, although he knew for a fact that if his little Amelia could survive in this space while being a reckless little tornado, sweet little Matthew would be just fine.

    He stopped, staring down at the books clutched in his hands as his mind wandered. What if Matthew somehow did manage to get hurt??? What if he tried to get a book for bedtime and the whole shelf came toppling down on him?? What if he drowned while Arthur was trying to give him a bath?! He shook his head quickly. That sort of thinking wasn’t the right attitude. He would be just fine. He was calm and quiet, Arthur wouldn’t have any issue with him. It would be a piece of cake.

    Or so he thought. Francis and Matthew had shown up a few hours later, and Arthur was instantly bombarded with a large bag as the toddler sat content in his father’s arms, head against his chest. “ _Merci_ Arthur, I did not know who else to turn to,” Francis said, his eyes shining as he set Matthew down, watching him waddle off to find Amelia. “Now, here is a list of emergency contacts for him,” he said hurriedly, passing him a folded up piece of paper. “And here is a schedule for you to reference from, you don’t have to follow it to the T but Matthew prefers some familiar activities to feel at home, and-”

    “Francis,” Arthur said, placing his hands on the Frenchman’s shoulders and giving him a calm smile, which seemed to do an effective job of shutting him up. “Calm yourself, it’s only for a night. You’re going to be late if you keep on blathering about schedules.” Francis gave Arthur an uncertain look.

    “Maybe I should just call in,” he muttered uncertainly, bringing his fingers to his lips as he chewed nervously at his nails. “I’m sure they’d understand that I needed to be here for my son.”    

    “And if they don't?” Arthur’s eyes hardened as he stared at Francis. “You could lose your job, your only source of income. You wouldn’t be able to provide for your son, and then where would you be?” Francis looked at him, tired and defeated. Eventually, he gave a soft smile, chuckling and nodding.

    “ _Oui_ , you are right, _mon ami_. I would end up jobless.” He leaned to the right of Arthur. “Matthew! Would you like to give Papa a hug?” There were soft thumps as Matthew waddled back over, practically flopping against his legs and haphazardly throwing his arms around them. Francis gave a soft chuckle, his hand coming down to rest among the soft locks upon the toddler’s head. “Be good for Arthur, yes? You’ll be staying here for tonight while Papa is at work.” Arthur heard Matthew whimper a bit, and his heart went out to the small child. Francis had told him of the effects his divorce with his wife had had on Matthew. “ _Non_ , _non_ , do not cry. I will not be gone forever, I promise you that.” He knelt down to look in Matthew’s eyes. “Where is the strong boy who will wait for me to come home to you?”

    Matthew stared uncertainly at his father, frowning a bit before he sniffled again, throwing himself into Francis’ open arms. “Bye bye, Papa,” Arthur heard the boy whisper before he backed up to stand next to Arthur’s leg, grasping the material of his pants in one tiny little hand as he waved with the other. “Bye bye.”

    Arthur smiled encouragingly at the child before he looked up and nodded at Francis. “He’s in good hands,” he hummed, reaching down and carefully lifting Matthew into his arms, smiling as the blonde boy buried his face in his neck. Francis nodded, turning and heading to his car. With that, he was off to work. “Come on, lovely,” Arthur cooed to the sniffling child. “Dry those pretty eyes, and let’s go find Amelia, hm? She was excited to see you.”

    Matthew nodded slightly, lifting his head and rubbing at his eyes as he did so. He did love playing with Amelia, and Arthur found that soothing to know. Matthew wouldn’t go the entire night bored at least. He turned around to head deeper into the house to find Amelia, gasping in shock when he found the small girl standing right behind him with the biggest grin on her face. “Mah!” she cried out, making grabby hands for him. Being a year younger than Matthew, she had even less of a vocabulary that Matthew did, even if he was selectively mute. She was getting better every day though, and it was interesting to watch her progress.

    Arthur set Matthew down once he started squirming, and Amelia wobbled her way over, grasping his hand before pulling him toward the back door to the backyard, no doubt where the dollhouse was kept. Matthew loved playing dolls with Amelia. Arthur smiled at the two of them. With them occupied, he could start on dinner. He opened the fridge, staring thoughtfully at the ingredients before deciding to settle on a simple dinner of mac n cheese. He started the stove and began to cook the meal, momentarily distracted when Matthew and Amelia came back inside, Amelia loudly demanding they be fed. However, that one moment was enough for everything to go wrong, apparently. Arthur turned back to the pot after reassuring her that food was coming, and discovered that it had gone up in flames. He shrieked, hurriedly filling a bowl with water and dousing the pot. He sighed quietly when the flames died down, his gaze resting quietly on the charred pot.

    He gave the children a weary smile. “Looks like takeout tonight, hm?” he asked, to which Amelia cheered. “What should we have, lovelies?”

    He watched as Amelia looked to Matthew expectantly, as if he were supposed to answer. Instead, he shrunk down under her watchful gaze, adamantly holding his tongue as he looked back at her. This went on for a few minutes before she gave in and looked up at Arthur. “Pacake!” she said loudly, and Arthur raised an eyebrow. She never asked for pancakes for dinner.

    He knelt down, smiling gently at her. “Is that what Matthew wants to eat?” he asked, to which he got a brisk nod. He chuckled, ruffling Amelia and Matthew’s hair in turn. “Alright, pancakes it is then.” He watched as Matthew’s face split into possibly the biggest grin the child had had all night, and it positively melted Arthur’s heart. “Why don’t I turn on the television for you two while you wait, hm?”

    Amelia gave a vigorous nod, her eyes wide with excitement as she grasped Matthew’s hand again, dragging him over to the couch. It was interesting to see her being the leader of the two, given that Matthew was older than her by at least a year. It was endearing to see that they had become such good friends. Arthur called and placed an order. He wasn’t sure why one of the local restaurants delivered pancakes, but he wasn’t about to question it. Breakfast for dinner did sound lovely after all. He put on a movie for the kids and grabbed his laptop, seating himself at the table as he began to work on the latest novel that he was going to be putting out.

    He listened to Amelia babbling mindlessly to Matthew, chuckling a bit when he heard the soft voice of the older boy as he helped her sound a few words out, which she kept repeating until she had gotten the hang of it. It was too cute. He was glad he had agreed to this. Only a fool would have turned this opportunity down.

    Hours passed, the pancakes had arrived and the kids had been fed, played with and tuckered out, Arthur had gotten them into bed. He smiled softly as they snuggled up to each other under the covers, Matthew having refused to sleep alone on the couch, so he had snuck his way into Amelia’s bed. He didn’t have the heart to tell him no, and he figured it would be a good idea in case he had any nightmares. “All tucked in, loves?” he cooed gently, drawing the covers up over the two. Amelia giggled and nodded, and Matthew mirrored her, albeit silently. “Alright,” he hummed, leaning down and planting kisses on their foreheads. “I’ll see you in the morning dears, good night.” He stood, turning out the light as he left the room, smiling softly. Ah, yes, a piece of cake. Francis was just an overly worried parent. Nothing too bad had happened, excluding the fire that had happened in the kitchen. No one had to tell him about that. And he hoped that no one would.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis makes his way to Arthur's house after dealing with his shift, and ends up staying for breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you for being so patient about an update! Something happened and I was without a computer for a while so I couldn't finish writing this chapter, but I hope you find it worth the wait! As always, comment below if you enjoyed the chapter, and if you're new, leave a kudos for the story! Enjoy!

    Francis showed up on Arthur’s doorstep to pick up his son at 12 pm on the dot, having slept after his late shift. He was excited to see the Brit again, although he kept telling himself it was only because his son was with him and waiting to see his father’s smiling face once again. Arthur opened the door with a smile. “Hello, Francis,” he hummed, his eyes sparkling. “Everything went well, Amelia and Matthew got along swimmingly. Why don’t you come in? We have some leftovers, if you want anything to eat.”

    Francis blinked a few times, surprised by the hospitality. “Ah, are you sure?” he asked nervously, blinking at him a few times. “I wouldn’t want to impose on you anymore than I have already…”

    Arthur scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Nonsense, it’s the least I can do,” Arthur insisted, grasping Francis’ wrist and pulling him inside the house, pushing him down into a chair at the dining room table. “Matthew wanted pancakes for dinner last night, and I ordered a bit too much, so we have plenty.”

    Francis blinked a few times as Arthur disappeared into the kitchen, his eyes wide. He hadn’t been ready for such a development. He could hear giggles coming from a room on the other side of the house, most likely Amelia and Matthew playing with some of her toys. Sure enough, the door creaked open a bit, revealing a pair of light violet eyes, staring directly at Francis. “Papa!” the boy squeaked, slipping from the doorway and running as fast as his little legs could carry him to hug the man’s legs.

    Francis let out a warm chuckle. “Hello, _mon chouchou_ ,” he cooed, his eyes sparkling as he ruffled his son’s hair. “Did you have fun?” he asked, earning a nod from the small child.

    “Am…” Matthew’s face scrunched up in concentration as he tried his best to recall how to pronounce Amelia’s name. “Amela let me play with her toys…” he sounded out finally, shocking Francis. That was the largest sentence he had ever heard the boy speak. Apparently some time with Arthur had done the boy some good.

    “Did she now?” Francis asked kindly, looking up to see said little girl watching him from a distance. He gave her a little wave, chuckling as he watched her duck away for a moment before coming back with a stuffed rabbit wrapped firmly in her grasp.

    Arthur came back out with plate of warm pancakes in his hand, setting it down in front of Francis before he looked down at his young daughter. “Amelia, do you really need Mr. Fuzzy so close to the table?” he asked, kneeling down to look her in the eye. There was a perplexed look on his face, one that Francis didn’t understand, as he stared at his daughter. “You should leave him in your room, or else he could get dirty.”

    Amelia frowned and shook her head stubbornly, her hand enclosed on the stuffed rabbit’s ear, rubbing the fabric as though it were a subconscious effort. Her eyes seemed to betray a nervous glint as she stood there, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Francis tipped his head to the side as he watched her. “Arthur, _mon ami_ , have you taken her to see a doctor?” he asked.

    He did not expect the sudden flare of anger in Arthur’s eyes as he turned to stare at the Frenchman. “She doesn’t need a bloody doctor!” he hissed, offended that Francis would dare utter those words. “Everyone suggests that, as though she has some disease that can be caught. She is perfectly healthy! She just has limitations, and no one can fault her for that.” He glared directly at Francis, as if trying to dare him to argue with him.

    He instead remained calm, raising his hands in surrender. “I apologize, I did not mean to offend you. It was just a thought. I see children at work who act like that all the time, and they had some official diagnosis. I thought you would like the peace of mind that comes from knowing what is happening with your child.” Francis turned to the plate of pancakes, cutting into it with a fork.

    Arthur heaved a sigh. “No, I should apologize. I get so worked up over nothing with her.” He glanced back at Amelia, his eyes shining with a soft love that only a parent could know. “I love her with my entire being. After her mother left us, Amelia became my whole world. Almost everything I did was for her sake.”

    Francis nodded. “Mh, that makes sense,” he hummed, chewing on a piece of his pancake. “I’m the same with Matthew, even if that means I don’t have much for myself. My goal is to give him as good of a childhood as possible, you know?” He looked up at Arthur, smiling when he saw the understanding gleam in his eyes.

    “It’s so nice to know someone else who understands,” Arthur murmured. “So many people take their spouses for granted, thinking they’ll be there forever. That’s not always the case, and so many people end up crushed for thinking so.” Arthur sat down in his seat, his chin in his hand, as he stared off into the distance. Amelia toddled up next to him, grasping his pant leg in her tiny hand as she looked up at him. Arthur smiled down at the small child, picking her up and resting her in his lap, where she smiled and snuggled into her father’s shirt.

    “I’m just glad I have my little Matthieu,” Francis said, looking down at his son. “She could have taken him so easily, but she decided to leave him with me.” Matthew looked up at Francis, making little grabby hands at the piece of food on his fork. Francis chuckled, feeding it to him with a soft grin. Matthew ate it with a bright grin, his eyes sparkling as he ran off again to grab something. He exited Amelia’s room with a stuffed bear wrapped securely in his grip, his eyes sparkling quietly.

    “Amela gave it to me,” he whispered quietly. He stared at the bear with a fond smile, since it had most likely become his new favorite toy. Amelia beamed at him, her eyes even brighter than they had been before. She looked as if she were just radiating happiness in waves.

    Francis watched Matthew for a few moments, relishing in the smile on his face. He loved seeing his son so happy instead of the quiet melancholy he had grown used to seeing in their home. “Did you tell her thank you?” he asked, trying to prompt good manners. Matthew nodded quickly, uttering another ‘thank you’ for good measure, making Amelia smile and laugh. Arthur was watching Francis somewhat closely, his eyes glittering with some emotion that Francis couldn’t read.

    “Er, Francis…?” the Brit asked, surprising the Frenchman with the sudden hesitance in his voice. “Would you like to go out and get some coffee with me sometime? It would be nice, and possibly for the kids benefit, if we got to know each other better, in case we ever needed to have one another babysit again in the future,” he added the last part hastily, his cheeks burning a bright red.

    Francis chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling as he listened to Arthur splutter and ramble on. “ _Oui_ , that sounds lovely,” he hummed, leaning on the table to smile up at Arthur, which only served to make the green-eyed blonde splutter and turn even more red, turning away to hide the raging blush from the other man. “When and where? I’ll make sure to have my schedule clear.”

    “A-Ah, um… Maybe the coffee shop on Fifth? They have excellent tea there, and they might have something to suit your tastes as well,” Arthur suggested, coughing into his fist to hide his stutter. Francis smiled and nodded.

    “It’s a date, then.” He stood, collecting Matthew into his arms. “Well, _mon chouchou_ , it’s time we take our leave. Tell Arthur thank you for watching him.”  
    “Thank you…” Matthew whispered, burying his face shyly in the stuffed polar bear he clung to.

    “You’re welcome,” Arthur responded with a kind smile, tipping his head. “You’re welcome back here at any time, you hear that? Just ask your father if you want to come over for another playdate.” Matthew lit up at that, and he stared at Francis hopefully, who winked back to his son.

    “We’ll have to see about that. Come on now, I’ll take you to the park on the way home.” With that, the Frenchman left the house with a flourish, leaving Arthur alone to process his own thoughts. Amelia bounced and wiggled in the Englishman’s grip, but he paid little attention to his daughter, instead thinking about the man who had just left the property, his cheeks staining pink once more. He shook his head to clear his thoughts before staring down at his daughter, who held his gaze eagerly.

    “What on Earth is happening to me…?” he whispered, unsure if he were talking to himself or his daughter in his lap. Either way, these feelings he had were out of the ordinary.


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! And so soon after the last one! I got kinda inspired to make this chapter as soon as possible, but now to be honest, I'm probably going to have to step away for a bit and see where the next chapter will go. We're not quite at the next plotpoint yet, and I don't want to jump to it too quickly, so I gotta see if I can fit in a filler chapter or two before making the jump (I want to do a few filler chapters because the leap is honestly quite a big one ^^;) Anyway! As always, leave a comment below if you enjoyed the story, and if you're new, leave a kudos below. Enjoy!

Arthur found himself tugging at his sleeves as he gazed at himself in the mirror, a nervous tic of his that he had never managed to break. “Well, Amelia? How do I look?” he asked, turning to the toddler who was playing with her stuffed rabbit on his bed.

“Da!” she shrieked, nodding as if what she said had made complete and total sense. Maybe to her, it had. Arthur cocked his head to the side, nodding as if he could understand her

“Really now? You think I should go with the white shirt instead of the cream one?” he asked, scooping the child up and kissing her cheek to make her giggle. “Wouldn’t that throw my outfit off?” She blinked at him a few times before nodding, the confused, yet happy look of hers making Arthur smile. He knew she loved feeling included, even though she could barely understand what was happening. However, he was willing to oblige, anything to keep his princess happy. “Now, I need you to be good for Ms. Gates, alright dear? Daddy’s going out with Mr. Francis, so he’ll be bringing Matthew by too so you can play together.”

Her eyes brightened at the thought of being able to play with Matthew again, and she bounced in his arms, laughing the little laugh that Arthur absolutely adored. He kissed her cheek again, carrying her out to the living room and setting her down on the couch. He turned on the television for her, letting her watch her little cartoons while he stared at himself in the hall mirror, nervously brushing his fingers through his hair. He listened to Amelia as she babbled along to whatever show was playing, and he forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down. This was just Francis, why was he so nervous? He even initiated this little outing, what could be so terrifying about that?

...Apparently a lot. He jumped as he heard a knock on the door, and he rushed to open it. There was Francis’ smiling face, and oh Lord, he looked stunning. He wore a light blue button up shirt and a pair of form fitting jeans, ones that made Arthur sweat a little. He could hear Matthew’s tiny little feet as he rushed inside, causing Amelia to squeal and laugh. “E-Er, come on in,” he muttered nervously. “The sitter hasn’t arrived yet, you’re a bit early.”

Francis chuckled, and god, did the sound make Arthur’s heart flutter. He turned on his heel to lead the Frenchman inside, hoping he didn’t see the raging blush that covered his cheeks. He heard a chair scrape the floor as Francis took a seat at the table, his hands folded calmly on the granite tabletop. Arthur coughed into his fist. “You look lovely, Arthur,” he heard Francis say, and the blush returned fullforce.

“A-Ah, uh, tha- thank you,” he stuttered out, cursing himself for being such a mess. Francis laughed softly as Arthur continued to splutter nervously. “Y-You look lovely as well, F-Francis,” the Brit managed to get out finally.

“ _ Merci _ ,” Francis responded, nodding and giving Arthur a grin before turning his head to look at the children. Amelia had dragged out a few containers of Play-Doh, and was trying to teach Matthew how to make lopsided little cubes out of the material. Matthew patiently watched Amelia, taking his role as the older kid very seriously as he kept Amelia from trying to put some in her mouth. Arthur swooped in when he saw that, gently grabbing ahold of his daughter’s hands and giving her a gentle scolding. She pouted slightly at the words coming from her father’s mouth, but she nodded a quiet ‘yes’ when Arthur asked her not to do it again. Arthur ruffled her hair fondly, lifting his head when another knock came from the door, this one loud and commanding.

Arthur looked at Francis, his eyebrows furrowing as he moved closer to the door and pulled it open. A very commanding looking woman stood on the stoop outside, her eyes narrowed as she stared at Arthur with a frown twisted on her face. “Are you Mr. Kirkland?” she croaked, her eyes narrowed as she stared him down. Arthur nodded slowly, a feeling of unease creeping through his body as he looked at her. He glanced back at Francis, who shrugged at him. “Where are the children?”

Arthur reluctantly stepped aside to where Amelia and Matthew were playing. The two children looked up at the woman, a look of discomfort crossing Amelia’s face as she laid eyes on the woman. She let out a soft whimper, grasping Mr. Fuzzy almost fearfully as she scooted closer to Matthew. Arthur frowned in concern at Amelia’s reaction. She never acted like this around anyone before. “Ah.. Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” he murmured quietly, glancing nervously at Francis. “W-We can go another time, and get a different sitter…”

Francis frowned slightly. “What do you mean? They’re fine, Arthur, don’t worry. Amelia and Matthew will both be fine with this woman.” Arthur opened his mouth to protest again, but the Frenchman grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the door, saying goodbye to Matthew and Amelia before shutting the door and pulling Arthur to his car.

Arthur stared at him incredulously as Francis got into the front seat and started his car. “You mean you didn’t feel anything off about that woman?” he asked, his voice betraying exactly how he was feeling. Francis shook his head as he pulled out of the driveway, his eyebrows furrowing as he glanced at his companion.

“No, Arthur, I didn’t. What on Earth is wrong? Are you just trying to get out of this?” he asked, sounding slightly hurt. “You were so eager yesterday when you proposed the idea, what’s changed?”

Arthur gulped slightly, seeing the sad look in Francis’ gaze. “N-Nothing!” he insisted, reaching out towards the other. “I-I just… Something doesn’t feel right. We should have gotten another sitter…” He glanced back at the house where everything, at least on the outside, seemed calm. His eyes glittered with worry.

“I’m sure everything will be fine,” Francis said softly, giving Arthur a soft smile, full of reassurance. His eyes sparkled warmly when he realized it had worked, Arthur was relaxing. Now he could enjoy himself on their outing. Arthur smiled back, running his fingers through his messy hair.

“I’m sorry, Francis,” he murmured. “I’m just… Really protective over Amelia. If she looks worried about someone, I tend to get worried. She knows best about herself, and if she doesn’t like someone, then she has her reasons, and I have to keep that in mind when finding her sitters.” He sighed softly. “I just wish Abigail had been available… She loves Abigail, and I’m sure Matthew would too.”

Francis hummed softly at that remark. He didn’t know enough about this Abigail to confirm or deny, so he just shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road in front of them. It wouldn’t do them any good to crash before they even got their outing started. That thought had his mind drifting back to Amelia, thinking of how devastated her and Matthew would be if the two of them were injured, or worse, one of them was killed in such an accident. He thought of poor Amelia, having nowhere to go in such an event, or at least, none that he knew of. He knew that Matthew would be sent back with his mother if anything had happened to him, but by the sounds of it, Arthur had no clue what had become of Amelia’s mother. It was as if she had dropped off the face of the Earth.

“Francis? Are you alright?” Arthur’s voice cut through his thoughts, like a knife. Francis looked over at him, eyebrows raised. “You’re gripping the steering wheel rather tightly, chap,” Arthur pointed out.

Glancing down at his hands, Francis realized he was right. He was grasping the round object in his hands so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “Ah,  _ je suis desole _ ,” he murmured softly. “I was just lost in thought. The turn they took was quite worrisome.”

To his surprise, Arthur nodded in understanding. “Yes, I know how you mean. I end up letting my train of thought get the best of me as well, and the outcomes are hardly ever favorable.” Arthur gave Francis the best smile he could muster, which absolutely helped Francis feel better about the turn his thoughts had taken. “Now, we’re here. Let’s get a few drinks.”

 

~~~~~~~

 

It had only been a few hours into their outing when Arthur’s phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, his eyebrows drawing together as he recognized the number of his home phone on the display. Worry wormed in his belly as his eyes locked with Francis’ as he answered it. Immediately he was greeted with the sound of Amelia screaming, probably having a tantrum over something being not quite right. “Mr. Kirkland, there’s a situation, you need to come home immediately,” came the voice of Mrs. Gates. Her voice sounded cold and downright angry, which made a feeling of defiance rise up within his chest.

“Of course,” he said lowly, hanging up immediately before standing up and leaving some money on the table. “We need to go back home,” he informed Francis, glancing at the Frenchman as he too stood. “Mrs. Gates says we have a situation, and I have the feeling the aftermath of this will not be pretty.”

Francis looked worried at his words as they speedily walked towards the car, Arthur climbing into the driver’s seat this time. They made it back in record time, what with Arthur knowing a plethora of shortcuts, leaving the car with a fuming Arthur storming up to the house. He threw the door open, and Amelia came running for him, clinging to his leg in a sobbing mess. Arthur immediately scooped her up, letting her bury her face in the crook of his neck, before he stalked inside, searching for Mrs. Gates. The woman was sitting on the couch, with Matthew in the backyard, sitting by the dollhouse where Arthur assumed the children had been playing before the phone call. His gaze zeroed in on the stuffed rabbit in Mrs. Gates’ grasp, and his eyes narrowed. “What happened here?” Arthur asked, his voice cold.

Mrs. Gates tipped her head back so she could glare down her nose at Arthur as she shoved the rabbit into his chest. “Your daughter needs to learn to put her toys away when it’s time to eat. She would not listen when I told her to put this raggedy thing away before she could have any cookies, so I had to take it away from her. I’m sure you heard the aftermath over the phone.” Mrs. Gates seemed oddly triumphant in telling him this, as if she expected the father to take her side over the matter.

“And she doesn’t have to listen,” Arthur said, meeting the woman’s gaze. “I don’t fully understand why, but it’s impossible for her to be without Mr. Fuzzy. I do not intend to take away something that she deems too important to function without. If she wants to eat cookies with Mr. Fuzzy, then so be it. She eats cookies with Mr. Fuzzy.”

The old hag’s face turned beet red, her wrinkled mouth screwing up like she had just eaten a lemon. “I dare say your daughter must get her head checked then,” she spat. “Dependency on a stupid toy is rather unhealthy.”

Arthur’s face began to redden as well, his entire body seeming to swell with anger. “Get out of my house,” he growled, his voice low. “Get out of my house, stay off of my property, and never come back. I will be calling the head of your agency to have a word about your abhorrent behavior. You’d be lucky to still have a job when I’m through speaking with them.”

Mrs. Gates threw her head back and sniffed disdainfully, eying Amelia like she was a fly on her wall. She stalked out through the front door, Francis watching her go with wide eyes. His gaze snapped back to Arthur, and he felt even more floored by the sudden change in Arthur’s demeanor. He immediately changed from angered demon to doting and worried father, taking a seat on the couch and rocking back and forth with his crying daughter, murmuring soothing words to her in an attempt to stop her crying. Eventually her tears dried, lulled to sleep by Arthur’s gentle voice. Matthew had come inside at that point, standing at the foot of the couch and staring up at Arthur and Amelia with wide eyes. “Amela okay?” he asked Arthur, tugging on his pants leg to gain his attention.

Arthur smiled softly. “Yes, Amelia’s okay now. See? She has Mr. Fuzzy, and he makes sure everything is all better.” Matthew’s eyes widened, and his mouth formed a small ‘o’ of surprise. He nodded quickly, surprised at the powers the stuffed rabbit supposedly held. He stared at Amelia, now asleep in her father’s arms, before reaching up with a tiny hand and patting her ankle.

“Is okay, Amela. Scary lady gone now.” Matthew continued to pat her little ankle before he stepped back and looked up at Francis, his eyes sparkling. He seemed so proud of himself for comforting Amelia to the best of his ability, and honestly, so was Francis. For such a young child, he was so mature. He would make a good ally for Amelia, especially when school started. Francis glanced at Arthur again, his eyes softening and a loving smile crossing his face when he saw the soft expression on his face, full of love for the small child in his arms. Perhaps Matthew would end up being more than a friend to Amelia. Francis felt as though he were falling in love all over again. He remembered the soft warmth that sat in his heart for his ex-wife, realizing with a small jolt that it hadn’t felt anything like this. Where that warmth only warmed his chest, this warmth seemed to radiate throughout his entire body. His smile widened as he bent down to pick Matthew up.

“Come, Matthieu,” he cooed to him. “It’s time for us to go. We will be seeing them soon, I promise.” Matthew nodded in his arms, rubbing at his eyes with a small yawn. The child was exhausted, which Francis expected. He bid Arthur farewell and took the child out to his car, buckling him in the car seat and starting the engine. He stared at the front of the house for a few moments before putting the car in reverse. He hoped this would go where he thought it would. It would make things a lot happier for him and Matthew, that much was for sure.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and thank you for reading through this far! Please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed, and thank you again for stopping by! See you next update!


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